I Am Of My Own Type
by rocketfire1999
Summary: "I just... I didn't think it would happen. I thought... I didn't think it'd happen to us. Do you know what I mean? What I mean... God, superheroes don't get sick, okay?" But I did. And now... I'm just another statistic of those who were too careless.
1. Prologue

**This, is the prologue. That is why it is so short.**

**This was written for the disease and illness challenge – and was supposed to be a one shot. Heh. It will probably have 10+ chapters, but DO NOT FRET! I have all of the written, I just am going to publish them one by one. But hopefully they will be very quick updates. Hopefully. And yes, I will get back to perfect soon. Eep. Sorry. **

**In a few chaptersd there will be a big AN, just explaining some things about the… condition. And yeah, im keeping it a secret. Unless you've been on the forum. Ahem.**

**ON WITH THE CHAPTER**

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There are three types of people in the world.

The normal, healthy ones; who do not have to be constantly monitoring themselves. They are the ones who take good health for granted. They are the ones who think our problem is not life threatening - too common to be an illness. And yes, in ways, the statement is true; about 8.3 percent of Americans have it. But these normal people - they do not know that what we have can kill you. They do not know that it is the seventh most common cause of death in America. They are safely shielded inside their own clean, perfect, normal bubble.

The second type marks the people who didn't have a choice; it was the way they were born, they way they were made. They cannot blame themselves for what has happened; their only reasoning is a 'curse'. The normal people - they may be all high and mighty, until they fall, and suddenly, they too are part of our world. Our sick, sugary world.

And the third type. The people who took their health for granted, ate whatever they wanted, when they wanted; never knowing they were getting sick. Never knowing what they were bringing on themselves.

I used to think there was a fourth type. A group of people who cannot be affected by the disease. Untouchable. The normal people - they could fall, but this group, they were higher then that.

Then everything came crashing, tumbling down; and my untouchable world with it.

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**Please R&R**


	2. Just An Itch

**Longer chapter this time. Though, I will warn you – the first part is a little crude. But that's the (insert the person cos im not telling you yet here) we know and love!**

**There were a lot of subscribers last chapter and I understand if you didn't review because it was just the prologue, but I expect all you guys to review THIS time.**

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I rolled over, trying to get comfortable.

_This_ time, I was going to sleep, and I would stay that way.

Yet there I was, jolted awake, only ten minutes later. I swore, throwing off my covers and marching off to the bathroom.

I think I had a problem.

You can try and put it nicely, you can use the medical term; but I had to pee. A _lot. '_A lot' as in, I was in the bathroom at least every half hour. And, turn away now if you are freaked out by people being crude - I wasn't even peeing that much. Just a dribble and I'd be fine.

Sorry, but I have to be honest about it. It's too embarrassing to tell to anyone else. Usually, you see, I trust in Barry; Y'know, he's a scientist and all, but he would still _laugh_ and say it was nothing.

And I was thirsty, all the bloody time. I usually have to drink a lot; as a speedster your metabolism just uses it up. But this was ridiculous. I felt like I was drinking thirty liters a day. And although I felt thirsty, my stomach disagreed - it had too much water than it knew what to do with. I felt sluggish when I ran, with all the water sloshing around in me. In fact, I felt sluggish all the time. I was slower than usual when I ran, and my head felt like it was full of cotton wool. When it came to school, I swear, my brain was on a vacation.

What was happening... I was probably just hormones or something. It's a good thing, right? I'm becoming a man! I knew it had to be just some side affect of becoming a teenager and everything.

I just _knew_ it.

I woke up the next morning, grumbling. I practically punched my alarm clock off my bedside table, heaving myself up. Itching my elbow, I stumbled to my closet, opening a draw on the left to pull out one of my Flash rings. I picked it up, then was forced to put it back down so I could itch my elbow again. Geese, it was really itchy. I scratched persistently but the feeling of something crawling under my skin would not go away, until I dug in my nails so hard I thought I might bruise. I flicked the side of the ring and raced to get in costume, standing in front of the mirror once I was done to see myself. I got a glimpse for about half a second before I had to bend down and scratch myself; this time on my knee. I growled and marched into the bathroom, pulling down my costume to lather my mom's 'Soothing Itch Cream' on my elbow and knee. I sighed, content, leaning against the towel rack.

And then my feet began to itch.

Feeling irritable, I grabbed the cream and squeezed it out over all of my legs, rubbing it in before putting the rest on my upper body. Finally.

I pulled back on my costume, feeling the disgusting texture of cream rubbing between the spandex and my skin. Gross.

I ran down the stairs to grab some breakfast, shoving in some toast.

"Bleugrh, it's burnt!" I whined to my Mom, who had began to cook more toast for me.

"Since when have you been picky?"

"Since you began burning the toast!" I snapped. Geese, why was I so angry?

"Sorry, Mom. I must just be a bad mood"

"That's fine, Wally. Now hurry and eat your toast or you'll be late for that big meeting."

"Will do. Thanks Mom!" I called, rushing out the door.

I was definitely slower than usual. It took me the best of an hour to get to the Mountain - that was like, quadruple the time I usually took.

I stumbled through the door, panting. My legs were suddenly aching. I hobbled over to the nearest chair and plonked down, but the pain was still evident.

"Look who's late, once again!" Artemis joked

"Look who's got a stick up their butt, once again!" I sneered, throwing her a dirty look.

"Sheesh, someone's angry!" she murmured, nudging Zatanna.

"At least it's a change from the usual... which is, well. You."

"Shut it, Kid Mouth"

"Make me, Bow Brain"

Kaldur stepped in, sending me a dark look. "Wally, we do not need you to be so mean. This team can only be a team if we cooperate."

I frowned, shifting to the other side of my chair to see Rob.

"What's up theirs?" I muttered.

"Probably the same that's up yours! What are you, PMSing?"

"Oh, ha. At least I'm not named after a private part"

"Dude! Must you always bring that up!"

I shook my head forcefully. "Sorry... I've been kind of grumpy lately"

"Kind of?" Rob said, rolling his eyes. He turned to see Zatanna gesturing to him, giving me a short wave before jogging off to see her.

I relaxed into my chair, ignoring the burning in my legs. I was so tired.. l just needed sleep...

Only to feel another annoying itch, begging to be scratched, right in the middle of my nose.

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**Blllleerrgghhhh i dont like the ending, but i need it to be there. AWESOMENESS and MALE DRAMA in the next chapter.**

**and you KNOW you want da male drama. Its the best kind.**

**And also, i had to bring up the Dick/dick thing, because we all KNOW that Wally teases Dick about it ALL THE TIME. (except they do it hen the YJ cameras arent rolling)**


	3. Struck

**Short Chapter again.**

**But guys.**

**This is what happens when I have about fifteen story subscribers and 2 reviews. **

**That****'****s not fair ;((((((((((((**

**Please review this time or I will be uber sad**

**In other news, I now have a tumblr. Its: youhavegottobeshippingme . tumblr . com (take out the spaces) you can enjoy my endless rants about YJ**

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Some weeks later, I got back from a mission, my legs screaming. I couldn't concentrate - my vision had even started to blur. I collapsed on the couch, the world around me spinning.

It was supposed to be a simple mission. It _was_ a simple mission. Making a quick check of an abandoned wear house; where we had heard a drug ring had been operating, but it seemed they were somewhere else. I was made to run around the wear house to give it a proper check - but it took ten times as long as it usually would. I was only mildly faster than Rob was, and now my legs were searing with pain. The world around me refused to appear clear; every line was blurred and different objects merged into others, like some kind of blurry portal. The Mountain appeared like a colorful version of the static Connor watched.

I must of being laying on the couch for about an hour when the pain in the legs finally faded, and my vision was a little clearer. Rob appeared, looming over me, poking my nose that still itched.

"Hey, Bats has another mission for us but you seem pretty dodgy. You wanna stay behind?"

"-hmm? Uh. No, I'm fine, I'm fine" I insisted, standing up. I stood and stepped forward and immediately fell flat on my face. My legs, instead of burning with pain, were attacked with pins and needles.

Rob started cackling, doubling over with laughter. Glad he found it so hilarious. I struggled to get back onto my feet, finally doing so to find my legs were still stinging from the strange sensation of pins and needles.

"You- ha- oh- ha- oh- ha- okay?" he choked, trying to contain his laughter.

"Fine." I hissed, following him as he strode out to the meeting room.

I didn't here anything that Batman said - my head was throbbing and I was swaying slightly. Batman gave a small nod and I followed the team out to the bio ship. I sat down and began working on the itch that had been building up on my ear as the seat belt clicked on over my we were flying, Kal made his way to the front to address us.

"Team, this mission, has the utmost significance. Not only will there be many civilians around, but the Joker is willing to kill when threatened. It has been reported that he has a bomb set up under the park. So, we must take a secret approach. When we do start attacking, we must do so quickly - there should be about fifty 'goons' to take out, and the longer they know we are there and are conscious, the more people who will get hurt. Wally, we will be specifically relying on you to give us a speed advantage. So you need to run as fast as you can. The Justice League were very generous to give us such an important mission and we must prove that we can handle the responsibility. Understood?"

"Understood" I murmured back, but I was having trouble forming the words. Geese, puberty sucked.

The bio ship touched down gently, invisible, in the middle of a cluster of trees. I switched myself into stealth mode, tumbling out to a point where I could see the Joker without him seeing me. I looked to Kal for a signal. He held his hand flat, to indicate stopping. Suddenly he gave me a thumbs up and...

I ran. I ran as fast and as hard I could, my fists flying. I ignored the pain in my legs, stopped using my vision because I cold barely make out shapes any more.I just had to run. The team - no, the justice League let us been responsible and I couldnt let my team down just because my le- ar- fa- everything hurt. I swept the legs out from under one last bad guy, and I stopped.

The world refused to stay still and my heart beat wildly, out of control.

I suddenly felt a flare of pain in my left arm, worst than the one in my legs. It was worst than the itching, worse than needing to pee all the time, worst than the constant being thirsty. I clutched at my arm, trying to remember which medical condition would make my left arm hurt so much. I began to fall, the world blackening as I did.

The condition... I knew it...

My head hit the ground as _it_ hit _me_.

I... I was having a stroke.

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**CLIFFFFHHHHAAANNNGGGEEERRR**

**Review****…****. Or I will never post what happens next****…****. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH**


	4. Don't Say I Never Listen

**Longer chapter again. Thanks to all the reviews... I was going to make this shorter but the reviews made me write more :)))) So, um, review more again. Please?**

**Last chapter I think I wrote the wrong tumblr address, sorry. youhavetobeshippingme . tumble . com (take out spaces)**

**For this chapter when people talk I am not putting voices after each part is said, because Wally does not know who is talking. I have put a few hints in though so its easy to guess. **

**Someone mentioned Artemis' reaction. _Your wish is my command._**

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I woke up to machines beeping around me, my eyes sealed shut. None of my senses, except that of my hearing, were working - and all my ears could pick up was the consistent metronome beeps sounding from something next to me. My mouth seemed to be covered with something, and it was digging into my skin - I could practically feel bruises forming on the flesh around my mouth. I heard voices, craning to hear who was talking.

"I just.. I didn't think it would happen. I thought... I didn't think it'd happen to _us_. Do you know what I mean?"

"No."

"C'mon, Bruce, this is hard enough as is. What I mean is... Ah, God, Superheroes don't get sick, okay! And not.. Not Wally... Wally... He's too happy, okay? He's the only one of us who keeps his head high. Dick... He has his moments, but Wally... I couldn't live without him Bruce. He won't die. He can't die. Can he?"

"The chances-"

"Fuck, Bruce, give it to me straight. I can't... I need you to tell me the truth."

"Barry, there is no truth. We don't know. He may die. He may stay alive. But... Strokes are not good. He didn't die immediately, so we can at_ least _hope. Barry..."

"Just- just don't, okay? I can't... Not now, please. Shit, why didn't he tell me?"

"Symptoms sometimes appear normal"

"No, Wally picks up on these things. He didn't tell me. How- how long did you say the symptoms started?"

"Its not exact"

"Approximately?"

"Maybe... Two or three months?"

"Shit... Bruce, he didn't tell me!"

"Barry. It's not your fault."

"I won't believe that till he wakes up"

"What if-"

"He will. Okay? He's Wally. He'll pull through. He always pull through"

I opened my mouth to speak, but it refused to cooperate. I even tried humming through my closed mouth but my throat wasn't responding.

I was too tired.

I shut my eyes and fell back asleep.

* * *

"Wally? Wally! Wa-"

"He's not going to wake up Dick."

"No but- he will. Bruce, this is Wally we're talking about. And plus, it's just a minor disease. It rarely cause strokes in young people"

"No disease is minor. Look what a minor disease did to him. He's basically in a coma."

"But.. Can't you just... Feed some sugar through his tube?"

"No, his blood sugar is high, not low. That would kill him. I would say he's conscious but unresponsive at this point. He needs to try and get out of it"

"So... He... He can hear?"

"And supposedly, taste and feel, although he isn't able to open his eyes and see."

"Can we do anything?"

"Nothing to make him come out of his coma, no, but we can prevent further physical and neurological damage with treatment. "

"Yeah, by trying to fix his blood pressure."

"It's not easy, Dick. It's like trying to get twine through a needle, but with your eyes closed. He's a speedster. His blood pressure refuses to stay at the same level."

"Are you giving him electrolytes?"

"Yes, as well as feeding him through a tube to keep him sustained and hydrated. You don't need to worry"

"He could die!"

"The chances..."

"Don't. Will he need a tracheotomy?"

"If he's stays under for longer than another week."

"Does he have a... Er..."

"Catheter?"

"Yeah, I just don't like what it does"

"He needs it though"

"I'll have to tease him about it when he wakes up."

"_If._"

"Shut up, Bruce. Please"

* * *

"Hey Wally. Can you hear me? Rob said you could but he can be a bit nuts sometimes. You can't respond right? Well maybe... Maybe you could just open your eyes? For me? You're about to reach two weeks which means you have about another two weeks to wake up before we really start to lose hope. Like, even if you go into a vegetive state, okay? Just wake up. I know it's dumb but I kind of miss you. Not a lot. Just a little tiny bit. The mountain is kind of empty with out you and Rob has turned into a Mini Bats. I'm trying to lighten the mood around them, to be funny but everyone just tells me to shut up. I guess I can't replace you, huh? I don't know why I'm talking to you. You can't even say anything back. I reckon Rob was talking shit. Sorry for the swearing...

"Bats says if you wake up you may have the relearn to talk and eat and stuff but you'll still have your powers. Funny, right? And it was your powers that caused this. Makes me a little glad I don't have powers. Sorry, I'm being kind of mean here. I'm mean. A lot, aren't I? I was the meanest to you but you just brushed it off. That's why I need you to wake up. I need someone I can get angry at and they won't get sad. And maybe... Maybe I kind of like you. Just a little. When your unconscious though. You're too annoying when you're awake. So, wake up, I guess. Or I'll be angry, okay? Next time I come you have to be awake or I'll punch you."

* * *

"Wally? Don't worry, but, uh, we have cake. Sorry. M'gann made it but no ones eating it so I put a spell on it to turn it into a chocolate bar except it still tastes like burnt cake. And you're not here so we have to throw it out. We need you, okay Wally? Someone to eat our burnt cake."

"That's not very nice."

"M'gann!"

"My cake is not that bad"

"I know. Did you want to speak to him? I'm leaving now."

" I just need to do one quick thing. And Zatanna?"

"Yeah?"

"He'll be okay"

"I hope so"

"Wally? She's gone but... I remember what your birthday wish was and don't tell Connor but if you die I want your birthday wish to come true, okay? But you can't die. So.. Um... Don't tell Superboy. Or anyone because this is kind if embarrassing..."

"M'gann!"

"Ah, yeah Connor, I was just, whispering something in his ear."

"We're having lunch"

"Did you want to say something to Wally?"

"Uh, yeah. Wake up, alright?"

"Touching."

"I'm hungry. Let's go"

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**R&R (or I will do evil things to Wally MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAH)**


	5. Say Your Farewells

**okay! Thanks for all the lovely reviews :) you guys make me blush.**

**More reviews = longer chapter. Although there's a little bit of swearing in this one.**

**Some of you may have guessed the disease by now, although it will berevealed soon. If you do not what the condition is feel free to PM me but please don't leave it as a review as it ruins the story for others.**

**But of a sad chapter. Well, I found it sad.**

**Please review, it makes me write faster!**

* * *

I couldn't open my as a might, all I could see was darkness. I could hear, though. Voices sounded slightly muffled but I could make them out. Just.

I could feel. I knew that sometimes Mom just came in and stroked my forehead, and that once someone had cried on me. But maybe it was just my imagination, because it sounded too much like Rob. And he didn't cry. Did he?

Was that what it had come to? Was my being in a coma doing that to them?

I wanted to move, I did. But my fingers wouldn't even move. Sometimes, I could get my nose to twitch, but no one was there to see it. I wanted to give them a sign. Something, anything, to tell them I could hear them, that I was going to be okay.

But even if I could move, did I really know that? Some part of me knew that my powers were working against me here and there was a chance that-

I had to keep that out of my mind. I just had to keep trying until my eyes opened. I couldn't die. The team needed signaled the entering of someone in the room

"Hey, uh, it's me. Y'know... I was just coming in to tell you... Happy three weeks. They say that comas... they average for two to four weeks so... You're right in the middle, hey? Kal went home, by the way. He just needed to be alone. He's blaming himself. Y'know him. He can be a bit of an idiot when it comes to this. But I told him you would be awake soon."

"Zatanna, if-"

"Oh. Hey Flash. Last time... I talked about cake. I just want to say goodbye in case he doesn't make it."

"Alright. Do you mind if-"

"It's fine, Barry. You're not allowed to blame yourself either, okay?"

"I-"

"Promise."

"I... I don't want to lie. Not anymore... Can you just leave us alone?"

"Fine."

"Thank you."

"S'okay" The loud, clopping sound of heels on tiles faded as the speaker exited the room.

"Hey, Wally. Bats said if you don't wake up in the next week you may not make it. And.. Uh, how much fun is it to prove him wrong? Heh heh. So... You have to get better to prove him wrong, okay? Oh God, Wally, I just need a sign. Anything. Please. I just... I can't live like this, not knowing if you're going to wake up or not. I don't even know if you can hear me. Please, anything. Just... I can't..."

The speaker died off and I could hear them crying softly. I had to move. Shit, why couldn't I move? I couldn't feel anything. No matter how I tried... Wait. I could feel my hand. Barely.

I concentrated on flinching it, imagining my hand in my head balling it's fist.C'mon, c'mon... Yes! I could feel that. My pinky, moving ever so hadn't noticed, though.I concentrated harder, focussing every ounce of me on making such a simple action. Yes... Two fingers this time. I was getting better and better. But he still hadn't noticed.I had to do this. For Barry, for Mom, for Dad, for the team... My fist balled.

"W-wally? Did you just...?"

I opened my hand and closed it again.

"Oh My God... Hold on, hold on, I've got to get Bats... Stay with me, buddy"

I was so tired now. I had used up all my energy doing the simple trick and now all I could think of was sleeping. Footsteps exited the room, growing faster, breaking into a run.

Stay awake... Barry returned into the room, grabbing my hand and squeezing tightly.

"Bats is coming. Can you sill hear me?"

I twitched my middle finger.

"Yes... Good, just don't fall asleep. I can't believe... You can hear me. You're alive... If you had been under any longer they said you would become a vegetable. But your okay... Wally, don't sleep. Your heartbeat's dipping. If you sleep..."

It was so frustrating. I had spent so long awake, unable to sleep, and now was actually tired and I wasn't allowed to sleep. "Barry-"

"He can move! C'mon, Wally, show him."

I tried to move my finger this time, but this time it wasn't responding. No, no, no...

"He's not movi-"

"Shut up! He will! He moved, I swear!"

Why wouldn't my fingers move when I really needed them to?

"When you're this desperate sometimes you can 'see' things"

"I'm not crazy, Bruce, he moved, okay! He will move again, he will! Come on Wally, show him! Please! Please Wally..."

I imagined my fingers moving, but nothing was working. I could hear Barry choking up now, as if he was becoming close to tears. But my hand would not move.

"Sorry, Barry"

"No..."

Knowing there was no point trying, I let the sound of footsteps die away before I finally fell asleep.-All I could see was blackness. I knew I was a lost cause. And try as I might, I couldn't move my fingers. Never again.

* * *

I knew I was getting close when they asked if they could cut the ventilator. Take out my IV. I didn't try to move again because there wasn't... There was no hope at all. Mom and Dad refused, and Barry said there was 'no way in hell' he was going to give up on me. But I had given up on me. There was no point in keeping me hooked up to a machine if I was going to die.

* * *

On the first day of the fifth week, Rob came into my room and plugged in his iPod, playing every song he had on the loudest setting possible until I thought my ears would bleed. He started singing at the top of his lungs until the music was cut off by someone and he burst into tears, his cries dying off as he was dragged out of the room.

* * *

On the second day Artemis came into the room and told me that she may of kind of liked me. But this time, she didn't tell me to wake up. She must've known a lost cause when she saw one. She kissed me on the cheek before trudging out, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

* * *

On the third day Mom and Dad came in to talk to Bats. And they said goodbye.I couldn't reply.-On the fourth day Batman gave me a medical evaluation, saying words I couldn't understand, but he stopped halfway, his voice going all funny, and walked out.

* * *

On the fifth day Roy came and said he was sorry. He didn't say what for.

* * *

On the sixth day the whole team came in, one by one, and they said a few words. But... I wasn't dead. Yet.

* * *

On the seventh day, the start of the sixth week, marking that hope was gone and that only a miracle could save me - Barry came in. He cried for what felt like hours. He didn't say goodbye.

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**Okay! Done! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!How many reviews I get will alter the next chapter (MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHH) so keep 'EM coming, even if it's just a 'interesting' or something like that.**


	6. Open Your Eyes

**Okay, quick AN cos we need to get to the chapter. It is short (sorry) but the next should be relatively long.**

* * *

On the eighth day, or the second day of the sixth week - I woke up.

I was lying in bed, ready to let go, when I thought I would try and open my eyes one more time.  
And they opened.

And so did my mouth. Except something was clogging up my throat. I grabbed at the tube and ripped it out, ignoring the pain in my chest as I did so. My moth opened... I had to speak.

"Barry!" I screamed, but there was no answer. Was I dreaming? Was I... Dead?

"Barry!" I called, again. I must've been on the other side now, in 'the light'... all alone. Just one more try.

"Barry!"

"Wally?"

"Barry... I- I'm awake."

"Bats was right... I'm hearing things..."

"N-no Barry! Please! I'm awake!"

Why didn't he believe me?

I struggled up, so I was sitting against the headboard of the bed. I analyzed the stark white sheets and the bleached walls. The machine next to me had started to beep at an annoyingly fast pace.

"It's dumb... The second I walk in I'll see that you're- Oh My God." Barry appeared at my door, his words cutting off as his eyes fell upon me.

"Barry" I whispered hoarsely.

"Holy- wait, wait I've got to get Bats. Don't... Don't go back under. Stay with me, bud"

"O-okay... But quick..."

Barry nodded, still looking startled. But before he ran, he reached out, touching the side of my face.

"It's you." he mused, a small grin slipping onto his face. Then, he ran out of the room.

Barry came back in, dragging Batman with him.

"Look! I'm not crazy... He's sitting up and everything!"

The look that came on Bruce's face was probably the most emotion he had ever shown in years.

"Wally... Lie back down. You only just woke up." he said softly, walking over to me. Yes, the goddamn Batman said something softly.

I gently rested my head against the pillow, my eyes drifting closed.

"Wally! Don't sleep on me!"

"It's okay Barry," I murmured, "I'm awake... Thats good, right?" I turned to Batman.

"Coma sufferers often wake up then fall back into unconsciousness. The longest ever recorded is fourteen hours, so if you can bypass that, we know that you're okay."  
I nodded gently, but there was still something in my mind.

"Why... Why am... Why _was_ I in a coma?"

Batman glanced at Barry who gave him a supporting nod.

"I... We... Never considered the chances. But because you are a speedster, and the way you eat... Well, frankly, your body has not been able to produce enough insulin - well, not fast enough, anyway. Not fast enough to keep up with your super-fast metabolism. It has gotten to the point where your pancreas is unable to keep up with the demand of insulin that it has completely shut down."

I turned to Barry. "What... What did he just say?"

"I'm sorry Wally... This won't end soon. I'm... I'm s-so sorry..." he stammered, looking away.

"What! What is it?" I asked, growing more and more impatient the longer they dragged out the answer.

Batman and Barry looked at each other, as if arguing who had to say it first. Batman gave a very curt nod, as if confirming he would break the news.

"You have diabetes"

* * *

**DAH DAH DAHHHHHH! Cliffhanger, again. Big chapter! So, basically, Wally could fall back into a coma at any moment. And the fourteen hours thing is true. Well, I think it is.**  
**Now, the question is, what will Wally's reaction be?**


	7. It's Nice To See You Again

**JUST published this. I may not be able to update for a while ****'****cos schools pretty hectic, but review do give me the enthusiasm to zone out in Maths and write the next chapter****…**

* * *

"I have _what_?" I demanded.

"Diabetes. Type two."

"But... Isn't that for like... I dunno... Fat people?"

"It occurs when the body is unable to produce enough insulin - the hormone that breaks down sugar - and shuts down" Batman explained, biting his lip.

"I- I ate too much sugar? But I thought..."

"Unfortunately your pancreas - the thingy that produces insulin - doesn't have your super speed." Barry whispered. "And... Because you had no insulin there was nothing to break down the sugar in your bloodstream. Your blood sugar... What was it again?"

"23.6 - that's what caused your stroke," Batman muttered, "You should be dead."

"B-but... My blood sugar... That goes up when I eat sugary foods… which I have to do to keep my powers..." I stammered

"Yes."

"Do I- Will I- Do I have to give up being Kid Fl-"

"WALLY!"

I shot around just in time to see Rob charging at me. I braced myself as he jumped on me, hugging me so tightly I thought I would burst.

"Oh my God, oh my God, your alive... Kid, your alive..."

"And breathing!" I grinned, wrapping my arms around the smaller boy.

"Speaking of, where's your tracheotomy?"

"My _what_?"

"The breathy tubey thingy stuck down your throat"

"Oh. I pulled out"

"_Dude_!" Robin exclaimed, his voice muffled by my chest, "that thing was in your lungs!"

"I wanted to talk."

"That much? Geese, I missed you, KF. I really did."

"I know you did. You were crying on me"

Rob pulled away, blushing. "N-n-no... I d-don't cry..."

"Sure dude. Whatever you say."

Batman cleared his throat to make it clear that he and Barry were still in the room.

"Richard, can you wait outside? Barry and I need to have a serious discussion with Wallace" Bats said slowly, while I winced at the sound of my full name.

Rob nodded solemnly, trudging out. Before he walked out the rooms door, he looked back, smiling broadly.

The plastic, white doors swung shut, and I watched his blurred figure disappear in the murky glass.

I turned to the two men who stood above me, exchanging shifty glances.

"Wally, type two diabetes has to be monitored carefully. You will have to take special medication to control your blood sugar levels, which may have side effects of drowsiness. But it really depends on the person. You'll have to take your blood sugar regularly and keep to a special diet. It will take a while to get your blood sugar levels back to normal; maybe a few months. " Barry muttered, playing with the lightening bolts sticking out from his cowl.

"Then I can't run, can I? Running sends your blood sugar up." I stated sadly.

"No, that's blood _pressure. _Blood _sugar _is the amount of sugar in your blood stream. It goes up when there sugar in your blood – usually the pancreas creates insulin to break it down and keep your blood sugar levels normal but…"

"It's dead"

"It's _inactive_." Batman corrected.

Barry cleared his throat and glared at Batman.

"I am to, aren't I?" I asked slowly, my voice rising on every word.

"You are what?"

"Inactive. I have to stop running don't I?"

"Using your powers will speed up your metabolism so-" Barry began but I held up my hand to stop him.

"Stop feeding me all this _crap_ and tell me what I'm going up against here. Will I be able to be Kid Flash or not?"

Batman opened his mouth – most likely to scold me - but Barry interrupted him. "Tell him. He deserves to know"

"WALLY!"

_Really?_

"M'gann." I stated. The pale girl popped into view and I plastered a grin onto my face.

"Hey beautiful. I never did get that kiss…" Mgann's face dropped for a moment.

"Don't. You. Dare." She hissed, stepping back as the rest of the team galloped into the room.

Connor threw his arms around me in a suffocating hug. "lungs!" I yelped, rubbing my chest as the boy pulled away. He went bright red and cowered behind Mgann, whose face was set in a piercing glare.

"Hey, don't worry 'bout it supes. I'm just happy to be back"

Batman murmured something and Barry hit him over the back of the head.

"Hey Rob" I grinned, straining my neck to see the raven haired boy standing near mentor, his smile a little too big for his face. "C'mere" Rob shuffled over and I pulled him into a hug, shoving his head into my chest and ruffling his short black hair. He pulled away, whinging, flattening his hair back into place. "Dude! Not in front of… Y'know" he jerked his shoulder back towards Zatanna who rolled her eyes and stepped forward to hug me gently.

"Hey, Z, still got any of that cake left?"

Zatanna pulled away looking incredulous. "How-"

"I could hear…" I pulled back a bit further to look Artemis in the eye, "I could hear _everything_"

Artemis frowned and stepped forward, raising her hand. I winced, waiting for the slap – but it never came. She pulled me into an awkward hug, her arms fitting stiffly beside me. I melted into her touch and she seemed to relax slightly, until Rob's trademark giggle sounded and the blonde was on the other side of the room, wiping her hands on her pants as if to rid herself of any germs she may have retracted from me. I stuck my tongue out and she returned the favour.

"Robin," Batman muttered, "You said you'd wait outside"

"I told the others and they wanted to see him right away"

"Yeah, next time don't hit your head. Idiot." Artemis mocked, nudging Zatanna.

"Hit my head?' I looked to Barry who raised his eyebrows. "Yeah… I… hit my head."

Obviously the team wasn't allowed to know about my… condition.

"Kal is still in Atlantis" Connor piped up, wanting to fill the silence.

I wanted to see me friends, yeah, but the thought that I may have to quit the team was stuck on my mind leaving me distracted.

"Hey… guys, do you mind waiting outside for a minute? I need to talk to Bats"

The team grumbled a little before filing out, their heads hung low. As soon as the doors shut I heard a muffled burble of chatter. I sunk back into my pillow.

"So? Am I going to be Kid Flash or not?"

"Wally-" Barry began, but Batman cut him short.

"First you have to survive fourteen hours"

Leaving me to marinate in the fact my life depended on the next fourteen hours, the Dark Knight turned, and walked out of the room.

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**Oh Batman. You can be such a poo.**

**REVIEW!**


	8. I Never Told You

**Only thing that kept me writing this story was reviews! This is a litttlleee bit of a filler chapter. and i know i try to keep all the couples as cannon, but i MUST have the few odd birdflash couple moments. theyre just too cute!**

**Another source of inspiration for this chapter was being in the hospital for a little while. That is my main excuse for not updating in so long.**

**Please R&R (EVEN THE SUBSCRIBERS. YES, I SEE YOU.)**

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_The First Hour_

They've moved me into a proper hospital room now.

Well, proper for a kid with superpowers, anyway.

It's still white as hell but at least there's some color variation - the floor is different shades of speckled blue, and a random pillar that sits the middle of the room has blue tiles scattered across it. There's a desk in right next to the pillar, but patients basically get body slammed onto the _lovely _blue floor if they so much as start spinning on the chair. It's not worth it, especially since the computer doesn't even have _pacman_.

The 'normal' hospital is on the watch tower. They gave me two rounds of needles before I could come, just to knock me out, because the last I visited with Barry I vibrated through the floor.

Come one, it's _exciting. _All these guys in capes and the really good treadmills that don't break when I run on them. And enough food to feed me double for _years_.

I'm in a bed next to Power Girl who supposedly got stabbed with some alien crystal thingy. She got stabbed in the chest, and the doctors have to change her dressings whenever they hurt, or once every half an hour, because she won't stop bleeding. She told me this before they came in to 'wrap her up'.

Except they forgot to pull the curtains around.

They were getting the fresh bandages when she caught me staring and started screaming her head off. She even made J'ohn J'ohnz come in to erase the memory. So she doesn't hate me anymore, but Batman came in and glared at me for twenty minutes. He told me Barry would be coming in and I was tempted to hide under the center desk, except my uncle simply leaned against the wall stating I wasn't the first to stare at Power Girl... _There_.

Hal - Green Lantern - got admitted about half an hour ago, and asked me why he had heard Power Girl screaming. I explained and he laughed so hard the doctors had to come in and give him about a dozen needles. When he finally calmed down, he showed me his arm. Some villain - I think it was the guy who has the yellow ring or the chick with the pink one - had attempted to cut his ring finger off, but missed by a lot, instead slicing his arm from his wrist to his elbow.

"I'm fine," he had said, "It's just a bit of a paper cut. Healed in a day or two."

If that was a paper cut to him, I didn't want to see a knife wound. That'd probably be an amputated lower body or something.

Hal picked me up with his ring while I has having a cat nap and dumped me on the spinny chair. When I woke, I just assumed I'd be able to go on the computer - yeah, I soon found out that was _wrong_. When I woke up Hal was still laughing.

"I hate you." I hissed.

"Aww, I love you." he grinned.

When they brought in lunch, I ate six serves and burped so loud Power Girl screamed.

Hal broke into a slow round of applause, a smile spreading across his face.

"I like you kid." he stated, then pressed the Nurse Call button so he could hit on Black Canary.

Rob came in at forty minutes and did some kind of weird handshake with Hal.

"Dude, thought you came to see me," I whined, and Rob rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, I have to go look after _the child._"

"You're already looking after Hal," I smirked and Rob came over to my bed dumping down an armful of newspapers.

"This is what you missed." He stated, turning.

"Don't leave me! I'm so bored!"

"Hey!" Hal protested.

Rob flicked me in the head. "I'm getting the rest of the newspapers."

"Yeah," Hal added, "Calm yo tits"

"Shut up, Hal. Go back to hitting on Canary." I said.

"I wasn't hitting on her. I was wooing her"

"Keep it up and she'll be suing you" Dick muttered.

"PWN!" I exclaimed, sitting up suddenly. My head filled with cotton wool and I quickly eased my self back down. "Okay. That hurts. That hurts."

Robin came back into my room a few minutes later with another armload of newspapers, dumping them on my legs and brushing his hands off. " That's the first few weeks anyway."

I picked up the first newspaper and groaned loudly. "You guys went to Themyscira without me!"

"You were unconscious."

I lowered the newspaper, and looked Rob in the eye. "Where's my pancreas?"

"What?"

"Where is my _pancreas?_"

Rob pointed to a spot on his stomach. "Why-"

"_Why couldn't you have waited another couple of days!" _I yelled, grabbing my stomach and poking the spot where my pancreas was supposed to be.

I sat back, growling softly. "The girls must've been really hot. You get kissed at all?"

"No, but Connor did."

"Lucky bastard." I muttered, picking up another newspaper. "Your first space mission and I'm fricken _unconscious? _Who's this?" I asked, pointing to a girl with tinted skin and green eyes. She had a long mane of flowing red hair that looked like it was being lifted by the wind. "Some alien model?"

Rob scratched his chin. "Yeah, I guess. That's Koriand'r. Kori. She's the princess of Tamaran."

I analyzed the picture. "You guys totally snogged."

"Hmmm. I guess."

I was a few pages into the third newspaper when I realized an awkward silence had filled the air.

"Dude, if you're offended by me saying you made out with her... It's a compliment, dude. She's smoking."

Rob considered this, but didn't speak. Hal coughed softly from the other side of the room.

"Wally?" Rob looked deep in thought, and was tapping the edge of the hospital bed with his fingers, as if he was playing the piano.

"Yeah, Rob?" I looked down at the newspaper. "_Atlantis? _Why were you in-"

"What does your pancreas have to do with your being in a coma?"

"I was wondering the same thing" Hal whispered, barely audible. Eavesdropping bastard.

"Nothing it's just-"

"Batman said you hit your head."

"I did."

Dick's lips pursed.

"_So what does that have to do with your pancreas?" _he hissed, standing up.

"Nothing!"

"Then why did you say it!" Rob walked backwards towards the computer and sat down, typing furiously.

"I didn't- Rob, it's _nothing. _Just a joke. Nothing. What are you doing?"

Rob clicked the mouse. '_Access Denied_'

"Rob! Don't-"

'_Access Accepted_'

I pulled the sheets up over my face as Rob scanned the screen. "W-Wally?"

"Rob I-"

Rob tiptoed over to my bed and pulled the sheets off my head. "Why'd didn't you _tell me?_ Why'd didn't Batman tell me? I get him not telling the rest of the team... But I'm your best friend. I- its not true. You hit your head. The files... They're wrong. Please, tell me they're wrong."

I turned my head away. "They... I was unconscious because my blood sugar dipped went too high. I- I have di-diabe-" I choked on the word.

"You have fourteen hours" Rob whispered, looking back the screen "if you fall back unconscious..."

"I'm not going to wake up" I whispered.

Rob covered his face with his hand and stood again. "I- I can't-"

He didn't finish his sentence. I reached my hand out towards him, but he was out of the room, leaving my arm dangling in mid air.

"I thought you guys were best friends" Hal murmured.

I rolled over and watched the digital clock's red numbers change. _One hour down, thirteen to go._

"So did I"

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**I had a lot of trouble writing the 'where is my pancreas' bit. I kept on thinking of the incredibles: "HONEY, WHERES MY SUPER SUIT?"**

**Please review! Its my bday tomorrow so i want to wake up to lots of lovely reviews (no seriously, it really is my birthday)**

**And im updating perfect tonight if anyone is interested!**


	9. Questionable

**Guys I literally had a Fangirl spaz attack when I got all of your lovely reviews last chapter! **

**In this chapter I've included a little character that I have a secret love for. Come on guys, we all have one. He's not too well know though... **

**Before we begin this chapter I would like to point out that I HAVE A HOLE IN MY PLOT.**

**Ahem. Well, actually, I just need to put in a scene, yet I can't decide on which character it should be with... Meaning we have no next chapter. So I turn to YOU. If you have any character you would just LOVE to see chatting it out or giving some advice to Wally-kins, just leave it in a review. The winner will receive.. a chapter with their character, written by me! Heh. Yeah not much of a prize. **

**This is getting to be a really long AN so more info at the end.**

**Please R&R**

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_The Second Hour_

I wish there was sound.

A ticking clock. Humming machines. Even my IV beeping.

But there's not.

Hal won't look at me and Power Girl got moved about two minutes after the first hour.

It's not like I'm bored. I have magazines and a laptop and this watch that Barry gave me that has all these games on it...

It's the silence thats the killer. Awkwardness. It's thick and suffocating and I feel like I'm mute. Any attempt I make to speak or turn on music just seems like a filler - it echoes and rattles around the room. The 'try hard' music is worse than the silence, so I turn it off and tap my fingers.

_It's not my fault!_

I want to scream at Hal because really, it isn't. It isn't my fault Batman didn't tell Rob the exact details about my... Condition. Maybe a little. But I just _assumed Rob would know this kind of stuff._

I peer over my magazine to catch a glimpse at Hal. He's made a yoyo with his ring and he's doing all kinds of crazy tricks with it. Why isn't he talking to me! He has nothing to do with what Rob and I argue about!

My phone makes a tiny dinging sound and I scramble to grab it. Communication! Finally! People tend to visit at odd times, usually overlapping instead of coming one after the other, which makes the times in between just a little depressing. You'd think everyone would want to spend what could be my last few hours alive with me - everyone just assumes I'll be okay, I guess.

I hate it. High expectations and all that crap. What if I don't survive? Huh? What then? Will you call my death unexpected because you really thought I'd never die?

_Heard you're in a room with Hal. Lucky thing._ _- Cheers, Barry Alllen_

I force a smile as if Barry's standing here watching me.

_Lucky? That guys an idiot. - The WallDog_

_Hey, he and I are good friends. - Cheers, Barry Allen_

_In the same way he's good friends with Green Arrow? - The WallDog_

_I'm not gay. - Cheers, Barry Allen._

_In the same way I'm friends with Rob? - xoxo, Gossip Girl._

_We fight a lot. - Cheers, Barry Allen_

_All the more in common. - KF_

_There's about five minutes of a gap between the next text._

_You had a fight with him. - Cheers, Barry Allen._

I tap about five different messages before deciding I should tell the truth.

_Yeah. - Cheers, Wally West_

_Hold on. I'm sending in reinforcements. - Cheers, Barry Allen._

_Barry! Don't do anything stupid! - One Distressed Wally West._

_Why not? I want people to know it was my idea. - Cheers Barry Allen._

_Barry! Don't do anything! W._

_Seriously Barry!_

_Seriously!_

_Barry!_

"The Flash sent me." I look up to see who's standing in the doorway and I type one last final text to Barry.

_You suck._

"Hey." I mutter. Maybe if I hint at it enough he'll go away.

"I am-"

"The Question. Yeah I know."

"Your uncle calls me No-Face"

I grit my teeth. "Yeah. He's very _creative."_

The Question sits down on Powergirl's old bed and smooths down a wrinkle.

"It is inappropriate to look at her breasts. She is younger. She screams, while, as you know, Canary fights you" The Question had this monotone way of speaking. His voice didn't raise. In fact, you wouldn't be able to tell if he was asking a question.

"What? Trying to creep me out with the 'I know everything' act? Doesn't fool me. You got half this shit from Barry"

The Question looks a little dumbfounded. Well, as much as I could tell. The guy didn't have a face, after all.

"I don't know that from Barry. I collect clues and information. And I have cameras everywhere."

"Yeah, so does Bats"

The Question makes a small 'Hmph' sound. "You once were so thirsty you squeezed out the sweat from a sock and drank it. Your mother once caught you chewing in the bathtub to strengthen your teeth. You bought a tank of helium about a year ago and filled a very big balloon with it - a balloon you made my heating up many smaller balloons through vibration and combing them. With that much helium, you took to the skies but you are so scared of heights that you cut the cord, falling quite a fair distance. You broke your arm, but twisted it back into place and let it speed heal. Your parents never knew. Nor did anyone else. Except me. I bet even _Batman doesn't know"_

My eyes widen as I look up at The Question. "How-"

"I collect clues and information. And I have cameras everywhere." he repeats with a hint of a smile in his voice.

I analyze the blank piece of peach that is supposed to be his face. "You got me. I'll listen"

"I also know about your fight with Richard, but Barry did tell me that." he sighed, rubbing where his eyes should have been.

I immediately clenched my fists at the mention of his name, but I realize Q's only trying to help.

"Yeah. I-"

"-just obeying Batmans orders?"

I snorted at the very thought, and Question looked at me quizzically. Well,I thought it was a quizzical expression. He could be smiling his face off under that mask and I wouldn't know.

"Nah, I never follow The Bats instructions, especially when it involves Rob."

"Care to elaborate why you didn't bring up the subject?"

I sighed and massaged my forehead, pulling the white sheets up to my neck.

"Barry... And Mum, and Dad and everyone who knows... They treat me differently. Like I'm in a glass box and if they so much as move to quickly I'll shatter. Even the people who thought I _had hit my head were so anxious around me. With the concussion story... Rob knew I would pull through. I was awake so he knew I'd be okay. I just wanted something to stay the same. For someone to believe in me, not doubt my survival and burst into tears every time they see me. I just wanted something to stay the same."_

"What if he didn't know? What if you fell back under and he never found out from you? Imagine Batman had to tell him the true reason you were in a coma. He would hate himself."

"Yeah, well now he hates _me."_

"And he has fair reason to. Maybe you should tell him what you told me."

"He and I... We don't have mushy moments. If I say something like that he'll call me an idiot. And laugh."

"Is that not better than him ignoring you?"

I sat silent for a moment then looked up at The Question.

"Thank you." I whispered.

The Question adjusted his hat and stood, giving me an awkward bow.

"I hope both your friendship and your body makes a quick recovery."

Q turned to leave but I called out after him.

"What... What if I stay alive... And I can't be KF anymore? What will I say to him? We won't be able to be friends any more."

Without turning, Q started to walk out of the room. "I think your main priority is to make up with your friend. You never know when you may slip back under."

"Yeah. I guess so."

I sat back in my pillows as Q exited the room.

"Sorry."

I looked over to Hal and forced a smile.

"For what?"

"I don't think I'll ever understand what your going through"

Hal didn't speak again, throwing up his yoyo and catching it. Spinning, spinning, rolling it in long circles. It hit the floor hard, and Hal's concentration broke. It shattered into a million pieces.

I never thought I'd feel empathic for an inanimate object.

* * *

**SO BACK TO MY COMPETITIONY THING.**

**I will be posting updates on the next chapter on my tumblr - youhavetobeshippingme . tumblr . com (no spaces) - yes, that is a shameless self promotion. **

**Oh yeah, and please review.**

**For Wally's sake.**

**P.S - sorry about the kinda short chapter- who would think a 13th birthday would be this hectic!**

**Please R&R**


	10. Now May Be A Good Time To Run

**Congratulatulatulatulatulati ons to **

**UMBUBY**

**your character has been picked for this chapter, but I, uh, had to make a few adjustments because having her as who you wanted her kinda defied almost all of the laws of DC.**

**Anyway. Sorry for slow updating. Long chapter for the long wait.**

**Please review!**

* * *

_The Second Hour (continued)_

I glanced at my watch for the billionth time, as if fourteen hours had already passed and I was alive, I was okay, I would never have to worry again.

But that's impossible.

Hal attempted to make conversation, but my head was throbbing, so I just rolled over and pretended to sleep until he too drifted off.

Something about the voice he - and everyone who knew about my condition - used, made me want to punch them. Soothing, sympathetic and caring - who ever thought you could get so sick of that awful, understanding tone? It reached a point where I just blocked out the words, tried to focus on something else. Something that didn't make me want to tear my hair out and then stuff it up my nose.

Something that made me want to keep on living. Because their 'inspirational' words sure as hell weren't helping.

_"I know its strange but it'll all be over so-" _

Remember the time I stole the car with Rob?

_"You'll be okay, you just have to-"_

It was Bruce Wayne's. I was so hyped up about stealing a billionaires car I didn't even stop to think that Rob would never steal. There was something behind it, an excuse he had to do something like that.

_"If you just stay calm-"_

Yeah, found out not long later that he already owned the car. Well, not him personally, but his adoptive father did. Surprise!

_"Remember we love y-"_

We drove up to Canada in our full costumes. Some people say its stupid that I love cars because I'm a runner - but really, driving around in a convertible beats running any day.

_"You'll be o-"_

Rob and I went to a Canadian supermarket and stocked up in maple syrup. Then we drove to the edge of a cliff and drank maple syrup until it got dark and our mentors started going crazy with worry.

_"Dying is just-"_

I think we may of gotten drunk on syrup, because Rob kept on saying that we should date. Like boyfriend/boyfriend date. I agreed. Who's better to date than your best friend? Then we laughed because we'd never ever ever date in a million trillion years, and anyway Rob was in love with Zee and I had my eye of M'gann.

_"Believe on yourself, bud, and-"_

Maybe that's why we're best friends. Because we would be the perfect couple, if only we weren't were grounded for ten weeks, but we snuck out to see each other every Tuesday.

Soon their sympathetic murmurings are nothing but white noise, my head is full of memories about all the amazing things I've managed to do in my life.

But I can't stay distracted forever.

When my visitors leave, the niggling voice in my head starts eating away at me.

It tells me I'm going to die.

And that's where I am now. The voice taunts and teases me, tells me how my suffering will end, tells me I won't have to worry about the future because I don't have one.

So I take out all the stupid cords attached to me, pain numbing my flesh each time I rip one out. I know those cords are keeping me alive, but what's the point of spending your last hours hooked up to a machine that may not make any difference?

My vision carousels, just for a few moments, and I lurch towards the bathroom, throwing the door open and spilling my stomachs contents all over the pristine white tiles. I wipe my mouth, a shaking cough shuddering through my body, that is already covered in goose flesh.

My skin feels hot but my blood feels cold, like ice water flowing in my veins. My heart's pumping too loud but the thump thump thump is a rhythm. It keeps me walking on when red appears at the corners of my line of sight.

And somehow, by sheer luck, I end up walking past Hal without waking , it's a wonder I'm walking at all, isn't it?

I don't encounter any leaguers in the hall, and one of those JLU members who no one knows about transports me down very happily, as if he can't see my stupid white nightie.

He asks me where I want to go, and I say Gotham.

Not to see Dick. Nuh uh. I'm not ready for that yet. I have to prepare some kind of speech or someone before I tell my best friend I'm dying.

I find myself in a decrepit phone booth, smack bang in the middle of a cobblestone alleyway. I step out of the box, leaning back against the crumbling mortar wall and shutting my eyes. My head is throbbing like nothing else.

I managed to stumble out of the alleyway, using the cement on the walls as support, glancing up at the Gotham Clock Tower to check the time. More than ten minutes has passed since I yanked out all those tubes - Barry'll be standing in front of me any minute now, ready to kill me.

It doesn't help that I'm wearing a white nightie. I look like I'm an escaped 'patient' of Arkham.

I turn to my left and glance down the bustling street. I get a few strange glances, and a glare or two. I analyze the area around me and realize I'm right outside a jewelry store - which guarantees the fact that I'm on a league surveillance tape right now.

I look up at a worn poster stuck to a telephone pole, it's eye slightly less torn than the rest of the poster. I wave directly at it and _wait oh god did it just flash?_

I turn right and make a break for it.

Completing the whole 'lunatic' look.

Of course, you don't run at super speed around civilians. No. Especially when you're not wearing a mask. Although I think I was running just a few hundred miles faster than the average human could.

Which, I guess, is my excuse, for barreling into a kid.

I realized the young girl was in front of me about three seconds before I hit her, which gave me enough time to slow down to the pace of an Olympic runner.

I swear, the kid flew at least ten feet in the air, landing a couple meters away on the pavement. I glanced around us. The street was empty. I sped over to the girl, sweeping a strand of blonde hair off her face.

"Hey, hey, please don't die, that'll really mess up my day. C'mon, c'mon... I don't need someone else dying..." my hands moved to her neck to feel for a pulse.

"Who else is dying?"

I lurched backwards at the sudden speaking, nearly peeing my pants in the process.

"God, kid, you nearly scared me to death." I muttered, my hand hovering above my chest as I tried to make my heartbeat slow back down.

"Who else is dying?" she repeated, pursing her lips.

I took the time to analyze the girl who was still lying on the ground. She looked about five. Maybe six. But it was obvious by her childish-squeak of a voice that she wasn't anywhere near my age. And also the fact she was about two feet tall.

I put out my hand to the girl to help her up, but she shook her head, shutting her bright blue eyes again.

"Who else is dying?" she repeated sternly, "If you don't tell me I'll get my Dad to kill you."

"Really, now?" I grinned, attempting to keep the chuckle out of my voice.

"Yes," she insisted, "When he gets out of jail."

I peered down at the young girl, who's eyes remained closed."What's your name?"

"Stephanie."

"Last name?"

"Brown."

My mind rushed for a moment.

"Is your dad's name Arthur Brown?"

"No. His name is Dad." Stephanie stated, sitting up abruptly. "Who is going to die?"

Huh. So this was Cluemaster's kid. "I am."

A look of shock passed over Stephanie's face before it returned to her normal pout. She peeled herself off the ground and stood up, putting out a hand to help me up. "Why?"

I rejected her arm with a wave of my hand, pulling myself up. Despite the height difference, I could feel her glare penetrating me as she waited for an answer. She'd make a good bat.

"I have diabetes." I stated.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed.

I chuckled. "You know about diabetes?"

"It has the word die in it. Is it the dying disease?" She asked, raising a brow.

"No. It's what you get when you eat too much junk food." I said quickly.

"Oh my goodness! I have diabetes!"

"No you don't..." I assured her, placing a hand on her head, "It's only if you eat hundreds of bags of lollies in one sitting."

"Oh. Okay. I hope you don't die." she nodded.

I took a deep breath, "Me too."

A moment of silence settled before Stephanie skipped up to a park bench and sat down, patting the seat next to her. "Tell me what is like to be about to die."

I smiled slightly and sat down next to her. She crossed her legs, despite them dangling a good foot above the ground.

"Are you sad?" She asked slowly, looking up to me with her big, cyan eyes.

"Yes. Kind of."

Kind of? Yeah. Kind of. I wasn't 100% sure what my emotions were doing at the moment. I just knew... I was numb.

"What does your mummy think?" She asked, pouting.

Mum. Right.

Mum, just like my Dad, was freaking out. She broke down in tears every time she came to see me. She told me she loved me and hugged me until Barry had to drag her away. Every time she saw me... I just... made her sad.

If it wasn't bad enough to know I was going to die, I had to spent my last few hours knowing how upset everyone was because of me.

"She's sad." I said finally.

Understatement.

"My mum is sad as well. Ever since Dad went to jail..." Stephanie looked down at her feet sadly.

"It's okay, kiddo. Sometimes you can get a new dad."

I thought of Barry. I thought of my own Dad and wondered why I saw Barry as my father, when we weren't even blood related. And then I knew.

Barry was the one who worried about me when I was sick. Who worried the most, anyway. It wasn't Mum, or Dad. But... He certainly didn't cry, nor did he show his sadness in front of me. He stayed strong. He knew I needed someone to lean on, someone to stay the same when everyone else became big balls of tears.

And then I thought of Dick and Bruce and then I had to stop thinking about fathers because... Dick.

"Okay. I'll get one later. Maybe when I get married my wife's dad can be my dad."

"Your wife?" I asked, slightly taken aback by the statement.

"Boys smell bad." she said a matter-of-factly.

"Ah." I nodded in feign understanding, "Do I smell bad?"

"Only non-dying boys smell bad."

"That's a relief. I thought my stench may of been putting you off."

"It isn't. You smell like hospital."

"Do I, now?" I asked, a ghost of a smile appearing on my face.

"Yup. You smell like blood and flowers and medicines. But that's not too bad..."

"Thank you."

"What about your boyfriend?"

"Why can't I have a girlfriend?"

"Because all the girls will marry girls because boys smell bad so all the boys will have to marry each other. Duh."

"Oh! Sorry. I forgot about that rule. I don't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend."

And I thought about Artemis. I didn't like her. Maybe... Maybe if I wasn't going to die... One day we could like each other enough just to try going out.

Maybe.

Probably not.

And then I thought about Dick. Because Dick was essentially my boyfriend. And I thought about how upset he had been when he found out I had diabetes. Then I remembered our trip to Canada. So... I didn't love him. Well, I did, but like I loved Barry. Not like I loved M'gann, but that again was different to the love I felt for my ex-girlfriend.

I was so confused.

"Are you sure?"

"I do have a boyfriend." the words were out before I could stop them, "Except we don't kiss."

"That's okay. Does he know you're dying?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"He didn't say anything. He just ran away."

"Did you run after him?"

"... I... I didn't..."

"You better run, then. Otherwise you'll die and you'll die not-boyfriends."

"I... I should. I should, oh God, I gotta go tell Dick. I've got to talk to him." I stood up, my hand running through my hair.

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye Stephanie." I paused and mentally added a name to my will, "Stephanie Brown. When I die, I want you to have my souvenirs."

"Your souvenirs?"

"Yes. Again, thank you."

And then I ran after Dick, like I should of done the first time he ran away from me.

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**Okay here comes my rant. I'm probably wrong about all this.**

**When looking up how old Steph was (which was as hard enough) I then realised she would be younger because Dick is 13 in Young Justice. I then went on to find out the age difference between Tim and Dick, since Tim and Steph are around the same age. After about three hours of searching, finally found something that said Tim was about eight years young than Dick.**

**HUZZAH except Steph is supposedly older than Tim... ****_Depending on the universe._**

**So, I completely gave up. Steph is around five years old in this. **

**THANK YOU**  
**PLEASE REVIEW**


	11. The Worst Bit Is The Cookies

**Thank you for all your lovely reviews :3**

**A quick update... For once...**

**Some Dickie Bird in this chapter, so I expect more! And for those who did not know who Stephanie Brown was in the last chapter, she was a Robin, a Batgirl, then became Spoiler.**

**On to the chapter!**

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_The Third Hour_

My brain hurt.

My brain and my feet and my hands and my _heart_.

To say in the least, my whole body hurt. An ache brought on by the sickness that was gnawing at my body when I used my speed, eating away at my chances of surviving with each heavy footfall as I ran. I could feel every bit of my energy _drip-drip-drip_ping out my pores.

My life being drained as I forced myself to go faster, faster, _faster_.

The dull rhythm as my feet hit the pavement was a metronome for all the thoughts racing through my head.

What if Dick hated me? What if he never wanted to see me again? What if I had lost my best friend?

And the inevitable, the question to which the answer was always yes, but what really mattered was when...

What if I died?

I tried to think of positive thoughts. I thought of M'gann and how she had almost kissed me when I was in a coma. Maybe she would kiss me when I slipped back under.

Maybe Artemis would kiss-

Ew. As if I'd want that Harpy to come near me. Right?

I was doubting every decision I had ever made.

All I could see anymore was white and I remembered that diabetes caused blindness. What if I was blind?

I shouldn't of been using my speed. It would be the death of me. Literally.

If I was going to die, did I want to know? Or did I want death to hit, and have me not knowing that it was ever coming? If I knew I was going to die, I could prepare. I could say goodbye to my loved ones. I could spill every secret.

Oh God, secrets. I wanted to share every single one of my secrets before I died. Or my secrets would die with me.

Had I written my will? I needed to do that. If I had time. Stephanie was there, so was Dick. I wanted to give all my underpants to Artemis... But how could I enjoy the prank if I was dead?

What even happens when you die? Is it just... Nothing?

Any more philosophical thoughts I can have are cut off as I face plant into the front gates of Wayne Manor.

"What is it with me and running into things?" I muse, rubbing my face as I stand.

My hands are shaking so fast I wouldn't be surprised if I could push them through a solid object. In fact, my whole body's shaking. Not vibrating. Shaking. I'm cold and hot, hot and cold.

I slip through one of the ridiculously large spaces between rusty black poles on the gate. I stumble down when feels like an endless driveway, then collapse on the front doorstep of the mansion, body shuddering with each pained breath.

It feels like my lungs are filled with water. No, not water. Blood. It's thick and dense and I can't breathe I can't breathe I can't breathe.

Alfred opens the door and I can't even see any more, no, just blurred shapes, everything spinning, spinning.

I'm dying, I think. But I don't want to die. I have to tell Dick I'm sorry for not telling him. Then I'll die. I just have to... Stop... Don't die...

"Wally?"

Bright lights. Blindingly bright, white lights. I'm dead. This is heaven. Well, at least I didn't go to hell. As much as Artemis used to tell me to.

"Wally?"

"God?"

"No, it's Dick you dimwit."

Dick sounds relieved. Almost teary. I try and adjust my eyes to the lights to see if he's crying, but somehow I know he already is. So I don't press it. I keep my eyes firmly shut.

"Well, I've got a meeting with God. Can you piss off for a sec? He's rather important." I joke, pressing my lips together in mock seriousness.

"I was in line first. When God changes your sheets after you wet the bed, then he can jump the queue." Dick replies evenly. I feel his hand pressed against my forehead. "You're an idiot, you know that? How far did you run?"

"Only from central Gotham. I got zapped there and met-"

"Stephanie? Yeah. We watched the league footage."

I feel a blush spreading across my face before I can stop it, "Yeah. Boyfriend."

Dick snorts as though the very idea is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Not on your life."

Dick snorts as though the very idea is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Not on your life."

"I know. If anyone was gay, it'd be you. What, your obsession with glittery costumes, spandex-"

"Hey! Straight guys can like spandex!" I can hear Dick pulling a pained expression without opening my eyes.

"Sure, sure. You didn't feel me up while I was sleeping, did you? I don't mind. I prefer chicks, but I'll get a blo-"

"Wally!" Dick exclaims.

"What?" I ask innocently, unable to keep the small smile off my face.

"We're in the batcave." He hisses.

"So?"

"The batcave has cameras."

"Ooh. Is Bats a bit of a voyeur? Or have you always liked putting on a show?"

"I will put this syringe up your nose."

"Syringe? Is that dirty talk fo-"

"I'm serious."

"So am I." I take a deep breath and get ready to say what I came for. "I'm sorry."

"Same, dude. No hard feelings?"

"What!? I had a whole speech prepared!"

A small rustle of fabric as Dick shrugs. "I thought about it, and I blame Bruce. You weren't to know."

"No, I just didn't want you to know. I didn't want you treating me different and stuff. I mean, I can handle Mum and Dad treating me different, but not you. I need one thing to stay the same, and you're my best friend..." I take a deep breath as I wait for Dick to respond.

"And you said I was gay." He mutters after a long pause.

"Hey! Chicks dig touchy-feely dudes!"

Dick smacks me in the forehead. "Ow!"

"You deserve it. You're an idiot."

"But that's why you llluuurrrvvvveee meeee!"

"I don't- whatever. I'm glad you're okay."

"Me too. And I'm sorry. Again." I open one eye, "Did Alfred make cookies?"

"You're diabetic. You don't get any." Dick teases, taking a huge bite of a cookie he's produced from... His pants? Wha...

I peel my eyes open instead of squinting, wincing at the harsh light I had mistaken for the whiteness of the afterlife. I blink rapidly until my eyes adjust to the lights, sitting up slowly and flattening my palm against Dicks chest to push myself up against the headboard of the bed.

I take the new angle to observe the room. Bleak, white walls. A drip connected to my arm, machine beeping, a tray table covered with magazines, no windows - the only exit the door a few feet from the end of the bed.

"Does Bats know I'm here?" I ask, looking over to Dick who's seated on the edge of my bed.

He sniffs and smooths out the creases in the sheets, biting his lip. "Nah. Alfred found you collapsed on the entrance and came and told me. I begged him not to tell Bruce... I assumed you wouldn't want to go back to the watchtower."

"I'll have to go back eventually. I don't want to die here." I sigh, gesturing around the room.

Dick shakes his head quickly, "You're not going to die."

"I am. I just don't know when. How long have I been out?"

"Two hours."

"Oh. So this is the fourth hour, huh?"

"Hm? Oh. You mean since you woke up."

"Pretty much. If I survive the next ten hours - fourteen in total - I'm okay."

"You will."

"I will what?"

"Survive. We're heroes. That's what we do. We thrive, we survive. I know you'll be okay."

I shot Dick a small smile, crossing my fingers under the sheets. "I will be."

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**Pwwweeeeeaaassseee review.**


	12. Make Sure To Mention His Love Of Leather

**Excuse the change of POV. Had to be done. Also, minimal reviews last chapter ****. Maybe this'll get your attention…. Yeh, that's right. This is poorly edited…**

**And short. Sorry. Buuttt…..**

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Sometimes Wally wondered what he had done to deserve this.

Having to tell his friend that he was dying, having to tell his family the same thing – no one should have to do something like that.

And before this day, he hadn't cried. Had he?

It didn't matter. Dick put his arms around Wally's waist that had been becoming thinner and thinner since he was first diagnosed. It was those hugs that usually made Wally believe in himself, made him fight more.

But this time, it just made him cry. His freckled chin resting upon the younger boy's dark black hair, he let tears run down his face. Unexplained.

But Dick just held his friend tight, like he never wanted to let go. Wally had no idea how long that were standing on the front steps of Wayne manor for – he just remembered a pair of familiar, warm arms wrapping around him from behind him and easing the red-head teen out of Dick's arms.

Wally remembered being put into a car, and being so tired. He wrote himself a mental list – to say goodbye to everyone. He hadn't done that. Not properly.

He had to finish his will, had to go for one last leisurely run.

A black limo drove him back to his family home, Barry stepping out from the passenger door and moving to take Wally inside.

Barry had requested that Wally be discharged - he was upset, and wanted to spend time with his family. One of the league nurses mentioned something about spending your last hours with the ones you love, and Barry lashed out at her. He, basically, attempted to rip her face off, screaming that Wally was fine, that his nephew would make it through.

But Wally wasn't helping. When his uncle had picked the sleepy boy out of his best friend's arm, the red-head murmured a goodbye to Dick Grayson. And, then and there, Robin fell to his knees and sobbed. But Wally was already asleep in Barry's arms, or so he thought.

Wally just didn't want to see his best friend cry, even though the same thing, only vice versa, had just happened.

Barry sent Bruce a text listing what had happened, and the he left the crying Boy Wonder to dampen his porcelain cheeks on the cream marble on which he knelt.

Wally's favourite smell was leather. It was comforting to be put in a big space where he was surrounded by leather. He had always wanted to go in a limo, but he had never gotten a chance. On the drive home from the Wayne Mansion, Wally pulled out a new pen he had stolen from a nurse and began to write a list of all the people he loved, all down his arm. And down his leg.

Dick, Artemis, Kaldur, Megan, Connor… All the heroes in the team, and in the league. Not to mention the heroes that weren't in the league. He loved them too.

Wally filled up all four limbs, so he lifted his top and began writing names upside down on his chest, then on his abdomen. His family, friends from school. He loved them all. Yet he had only said goodbye to a few. He wrote and wrote until the pen ran out of ink and he threw the pen down.

He was tired. He wanted to sleep, more than anything in the world.

But he needed to finish his list.

At times, the new pen ripped the cloth of his shirt, or poked holes in the blue fabric. But he knew his mother wouldn't mind.

The ink on his skin itched, but he didn't dare scratch it in fear a single name would be smudged. About a block from his house, Wally look at his reflection in car window and wrote 'Barry Allen' across his forehead. The letters were wonky, his hands were shaking so much, and some were backwards because of the image in his reflection.

Then he laid back on the leather seats, letting himself be engulfed in the comforting smell, the smooth texture.

So soft. It reminded him of the time he and Dick built a pillow fort and knocked it all down, their majestic palace reduced to nothing but a pile of ultra-comfy cushions.

The leather reminded him of the smell of mothballs, which reminded him of his grandma, which reminded him of his family and…

He was getting rather sick of being sick. And tired.

In fact, he was so tired, he couldn't help but go to sleep, right then and there.

Barry instructed the driver to pull over in front of the West's whitewashed home. He shut the passenger door behind him, then moved to the backseat door to retrieve his nephew.

Barry was sore. Tired. He hadn't slept in days. So his plan of attack was to wake his nephew and get him to walk upstairs himself.

He opened the car door and peered at the sleeping body. "Wakey, wakey, Speedy Gonsalez!"

Wally did not stir.

Barry checked his pulse – strong. The boy was just sleeping.

"C'mon, KF. I'm gonna break my back if you make me carry you up the stairs." He muttered, shaking the boy gently in an attempt to rouse him.

All the while, Wally was awake.

He went to sit up, but he couldn't.

He tried to speak, he couldn't.

He tried to open his eyes, he couldn't.

And two things happened at that very moment. Barry spotted the names. On Wally's arms, legs, chest, abdomen, shirt. And even Barry's name branded across his forehead.

And Wally remembered that the doctor had said that the longest anyone had survived had been 14 hours.

Wally was always one to get things over quickly.

Because, in only four hours, he had slipped back into a coma.

And he knew he wouldn't wake up.

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**Sorry. No reviews makes me sad and oops sorryyyyy -.-**


	13. There Are Some Marathons

**Woohoo! Over 100 reviews! Thank you all so much. **

**A lot of the medical terms in this chapter are unexplained because they are a bore to read. If you are really interested please do PM me and I'd be happy to explain. Please also check on the poll on my page which will determine Wally's future in this story... Eep!**

**Eorry if this chapter is short.**

**enjoy the chapter, please review.**

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The silence is heavy. Thick. Suffocating. Marred only by the beeps indicating that my heart is still beating. For now.

It fills the air surrounding me, making it impossible to breathe. Each breath is short, sharp and painful. My chest rises and falls at a frantic pace, like I'm running a marathon that refuses to finish.

Ever.

Diabetes is my marathon. I know that I will collapse before the finish line.

Has someone found my will? I stuffed it inside my favourite pillow because every time I looked at it I cried. If they never find it, what will happen? Will my possessionsjust stay in my room forever? Collecting dust because no one wants to touch them? Or will they end up on the side of the road at the next council rubbish collection day? It hurts that everything that is me will be landfill one day.

The newspapers Kid Flash was in, the stories, the informational books they wrote about him and the websites - will they remain? Will Kid Flash die with Wally West? Or will another fill his shoes?

In time, though, I will be forgotten. It make take years, decades, centuries... But even the legacy of Kid Flash has to die.

Like me.

It hurts more than anything to imagine what this is doing to my parents. They have not visited yet, but maybe that is because everyone is afraid of Barry. He is an emotional wreck. Even I am a little scared of him.

Some times my dad would yell and scream at me, just like any other parent. He will regret it. He will never get to apologise. I wish that I could tell him thait it never bothered me too greatly, that he was forgiven soon after.

So many unspoken words, no time to say them.

Surely the team will suffer. They will be missing their speedster. A vital part of them. Maybe they are trying to forget me. They said their goodbyes the last time I was in a coma, went through the pain of losing me, then the joy of having me back. I should have just died the first time. They wouldn't of had to say goodbye again, it wouldn't be as emotional.

My skin prickles with pins and needles, a cold sweat covering my flesh. My body is limp, lifeless, useless. I cannot control myself, cannot make myself move. The only times I can shift positions are when the hourly seizure comes upon me - and even then, I know that I no longer own my body.

Diabetes does.

Brain damage, they say.

Amputation, they say.

Heart problems, they say.

Blindness, they say.

Death, they say.

Do I really care anymore? I have long passed doubts on whether such a simple disease such as diabetes can really have such devastating effects. Sugar is valuable to our bodies, but sometimes it can be bad. Diabetes is really a disease of the blood. The thing than runs through every vital organ.

How are all these things related to diabetes? Easy.

Brain damage can occur during very bad hypoglycemic reactions. That's basically when you don't have enough glucose in your blood. It looks high on my list.

Amputations of the lower body are reported fifteen times more in sufferers of diabetes than 'regular' people. It's hard to believe I was worried about ever being able to run again. Now I just wonder if I'll keep my leg.

Heart problems? That was what my stroke was. The thing that got me in a coma. Goddamn heart.

Blood also goes to your eyes, so mine are probably at risk. Retinopathy, cataracts and glaucoma, the doctors say, happen to about 40% of diabetes sufferers.

The doctors talk as if I cannot hear. Or maybe they know I can - they just want me to face the facts.

I didn't even know what a pancreas was, and now mine is killing me.

"Dr. Allen! Oh, it's a pleasure!" The doctor, I assume, is delighted to meet such a successful scientist, especially one involved in forensics. I can tell from his bubbly tone that he pays no mind to the fact that I am dying. I wouldn't, if I were in his shoes, either.

I cannot be fixed. You shouldn't waste your emotion on that.

"Fix him." My uncle's voices cold, harsh - a shell of once was. And I have done it to him.

"O-Oh. Barry... Can I call you Barry?"

"No. That suggests that I respect you enough to let you call me by my first name."

"I... I..."

"And I do not have a mere ounce of respect to give you, doc. Not until you fix my so-" Barry pauses, and I can here the evident sound of him shifting, "My nephew."

"Ba- Dr Allen, such... It would be impossible."

More shifting, and suddenly the doctor cries out. "No! Put me down! Help! He-" he is cut off, only his muffled pleas barely audible through what I assume is Barry's hand.

"They said it was impossible for me to get super speed. Then they said it would be impossible for it to happen again. Then they said Wally wouldn't wake up. Then they said he would last at least six hours. Six hours. Not four. They said it was impossible he would last less than six. So don't you dare tell me it's impossible. Because to me, that word only tells me that he will wake up. Don't you dare get my hopes... Hopes up. N-Not again."

The doctor cries out again, and there sounds a heavy thump.

Barry's voice dies off to a hoarse mumble, repeating 'not again' over and over, until I'm sure I can't take it any longer. By then, he is dragged from the room, as someone enters to soothe the shivering doctor.

Inwardly, I smile.

Not again. No, not again.

This time, I'll die for real.

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**Thanks for all the review last chapter. The same for this one, please? **


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